


The Cut of Your Love Never Hurts, Baby

by FlyOnTheWall14



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-08-21 18:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16582196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyOnTheWall14/pseuds/FlyOnTheWall14
Summary: Plagued with guilt after possibly ruining Anna's happily-ever-after, Elsa is forced to make a difficult decision. Was it wrong to do the same to another woman - worse yet to fall in love with her? Willing to ruin lives to ensure Anna's happiness, she must face the consequences: A scorned princess, widespread insurgency and said princess's furious ex-lover.





	1. Sorrow is Just All the Rage

*{-}  **Sorrow is Just All the Rage  **{-}*

Hi guys! I originally put this on FanFiction.net and I thought I'd add it on here too just because...

So, I'm relatively new to AO3. Hopefully everyone is nice... 

I've read a lot of good stuff on AO3 and just wanted to add my two pence worth - whether you think it's good or not is up to you guys haha.

* * *

 Locked jaw. Stoic expression. A queen must not reveal her emotions. Her father always told her she was a remarkably clever girl: "Do not let your emotion outweigh your intelligence." That's what he said. "A successful queen would never let her heart rule her head." He said it would help her. If she wanted to be successful, then she should rule with her head and not let emotions corrupt her decisions.

She must have been fourteen or fifteen when he said it. The young princess had frozen her room in a freezing fit of teenage temper.

She remembered that they had been talking about Anna. Then, Elsa had asked if she might soon be able to see the other princess more often. They sometimes managed to glimpse each other in brief passing, but other than that, the sisters were practically strangers. Agnarr had gently refused, claiming that he believed Elsa should have total control of her power before she could be allowed to be with Anna for extended periods of time. Elsa had protested, claiming that she barely knew the girl she called sister and that she could indeed control her power – a lie even her adolescent anger could see through.

Tears formed in her eyes and he tried to calm her, reminding her that getting upset wouldn't solve anything; she would learn to control it one day, but she had to work harder. And cue the adolescent ice explosion.

Try  _harder_? Couldn't he see that she was trying? Couldn't he see that she wanted this with every fibre of her being? To imply she wasn't trying hard enough was just an insult to her efforts!

She had raged at him, telling him that he didn't understand just how hard it actually was. She told him he didn't care about her. She accused him of keeping her locked away from Anna because he thought her a monster, lying to her face day in, day out and feeding her false hope that one day – one day – she could be with Anna again.

Elsa had yelled until she was blue in the face, blood thumping in her ears, heart hammering against her ribs. Her anger, though outwardly directed towards her father, was really meant for herself. She knew it wasn't his fault. It was hers; she needed to control this curse if she were ever to see her sister again. It wasn't his fault.

It was odd; despite her adolescence, the princess had never allowed herself to get so carried away with her emotions. Such a show was uncharacteristic of the blonde girl; Elsa knew it was dangerous. Often she suppressed emotion for fear of harming those around her. This sudden show of anger and frustration was completely unexpected. Elsa knew her emotions were dangerous and she tried ever so hard to control them but, on this one occasion, the rage had slipped out and she was unable to feel anything but the bitter sting of her father's rejection.

The burning of vexation in her chest was such a powerful and frightening contrast to the usual gloom of guilt and despair that swallowed her stomach. Her own anger was terrifying.

She knew as soon as she had finished ranting that she was wrong to let such thoughts creep into her mind and spill from her mouth. The stalagmites and stalactites that protruded from the floor, ceiling and walls of her bedroom were evidence of why she couldn't be with Anna; she was dangerous and unpredictable. And she had continued to believe that for many of the following years.

Her father's face had remained stolid, displaying his usual sangfroid, but his eyes – God she saw it in his eyes. The shock – which she had mistaken for fear – and the pain and something akin to disappointment. He said it, his voice not cracking – not once wavering.

"You are such a remarkable girl, Elsa. Do not let your emotion outweigh your intelligence; emotion can corrupt perspective. Your mother and I wish the day where you and Anna may be together again would come sooner. To be successful, you must let your head guide you; a successful queen would never let her heart rule her head. You're far too clever to believe we would ever wish to deprive you or your sister." Elsa had frowned at him with all the stubbornness expected of a hormonal ice princess; she was not willing to admit defeat yet was secretly horrified at the destruction she had caused and the danger she had put her father in.

She understood his words. She was selfish to desire more contact with her sister despite her delusions of control. Elsa knew she should be thinking about the danger she would be putting her in, the possibility of hurting her. She needed to find the balance between thought and emotion.

His wise words and fearless expression in the face of such danger had always stayed with her. She remembered her father as a brave man – brave, even in the face of his witch-daughter. Brave. Stoic. Seemingly indifferent. She knew he cared in his own way and if there was ever a time for her to remember his words, it was now.

* * *

Elsa looked at the councilors before her, their own expressions betraying them. Fear, worry, uncertainty.

The men they spoke of sounded dangerous. She wanted to hate those men. The ones that spat her name like a curse. She wanted to despise them – wanted to be furious with them for even thinking she had anything but good intentions.

Arendelle was her kingdom, her home. She wanted to detest them and yet, she found she just couldn't. Elsa understood all too well the fear of her own abilities. She had felt that same fear for years; she had let it control her for such a long time. Elsa knew fear was an inevitable reaction to her powers and it was for that reason she couldn't hate them.

Elsa couldn't let her indignation influence her actions. She had to dismiss the way it made her feel and think how best to handle the situation the way a queen should, for the benefit of her people.

She had to understand their fear, not react to it.

She cleared her throat and motioned for Lady Brekke, overseer of kingdom affairs, to continue.

"As of last night we have to view these men as a threat, ma'am. To both you and to Arendelle. At the moment they are a small group, but their persistence concerns us; their numbers are slowly growing."

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, taking the woman's words in and processing them.

"What do we know about them?" Elsa asked.

"Not much, ma'am. As far as we can tell, they are just rebellious individuals of Arendelle. There have been protests, most against your position on the throne – some more violent than others. They curse your name and your blood, claim you to be a malignant sorceress. Until last night, they had not harmed anyone, though it seems things have taken quite a violent turn as of late."

There was a silence before captain Halvørsen cleared his throat to speak.

"Your Majesty, in light of these recent events, I wish to increase the castle guard on duty. Though the threat may not be of prominence at this moment in time, I believe it best that we prepare for the worst."

Elsa felt her brows twitch, threatening a frown. She knew, as a queen, she couldn't afford to allow pride to cloud her judgement. It could prove fatal. If an increase in the men guarding the castle was necessary, then she certainly wasn't going to endanger her sister, the staff or herself by refusing. Though the suggestion of increasing the guard detail revealed more to her on its own than anything that had been said so far.

"Be truthful with me, captain Halvørsen." Their eyes met; her expression remained hard. She and the captain didn't always see eye to eye, but she knew that where the safety of Arendelle was concerned, they were usually more or less on the same page. But, if there was anyone she could count on to tell her the cold, hard truth, it was him.

His grey eyes, a murky lake through which she could not even see her own reflection, narrowed slightly. A sign she was right; this ran deeper than he cared to admit.

"During these protests... They sometimes gather in the streets, shouting insults and spitting obscenities. We had wished to see if increasing the frequency of guard patrols and enforcing minor punishments might discourage them. At the time, I didn't think it necessary to bother you with such trivialities."

"And I assume that was unsuccessful; it took someone getting hurt before I was made aware?" She asked. His lips pursed, forming a straight line; he bowed his head in reluctant confirmation. "As for increasing the castle guard, I believe it would only show fear; if we show them that I am hiding then doesn't that only strengthen their resolve? I will not hide whilst these ruffians terrorise my people."

"Of course, your Majesty."

"I want more guards on the streets; my people will be  _safe_. You should have come to me sooner."

"I didn't believe it to be such a pressing matter, ma'am; the first few incidents were nothing more than the rantings of a few drunken men. Unfortunately, this has progressed into organised protests and preachings. It seems they have grown steadily just recently, despite their inactivity. Last night was the first and worst of their public appearances in days. I apologise, ma'am."

"I want any and all incidents that could possibly be connected to these men to be reported to me immediately in the future. All offenders will be arrested and brought in for questioning. We need suppress this violent behaviour before it gets out of hand." She met his eyes, her lips drawn into a stern line. "And before anyone else gets hurt."

"Of course, your Majesty. I shall report any such incidents to you in the future."

"Very well. If that is all..."

"There was one more thing we wished to address your Majesty," came Eriksson's voice. He was a tall man of slim build, her elder by about twenty years with greying brunette hair and somewhat wrinkled blue eyes. "If we are all in the spirit of addressing situations before they become problematic," he continued.

"Carry on."

"As part of this most trusted council, we are all aware of the fact that you, yourself, cannot bear a child, your Majesty and shall be relying upon Princess Anna being the heir to your throne."

_Well, that was a sharp turn_. Her brow raised. One minute they're talking about these dangerous men and the next he brings this up...

Indeed, she could not bear children. Many young girls eagerly awaited the day when their moon blood would come, signifying their transition from little girl to young lady. Unfortunately, for Arendelle's queen, that day had never come.

Her mother had tried to comfort her when, at seventeen years old, she had still yet to bleed once. She assured her that for many young women such an event was simply delayed and that her day would soon come. Elsa was never so hopeful. Despite her mother's desire to offer a shoulder to cry on, Elsa had outright refused anyone entry to her room for an entire week following her seventeenth birthday.

She had remembered feeling broken – literally; her body didn't work. And how could it? A freak of nature should surely have never been given the chance to breed – to create more obscenities like herself. Despite the fact she had never wanted a child – and held no desire to endure the activity through which one was created – there was something about coming to the realisation that she couldn't bear a child  _anyway_  that hurt like a vice crushing her heart.

Perhaps it was the primal, instinctive part of her brain that told her she needed to reproduce or maybe it was just the fact that it was one more thing  _she_  could not have – something that many others, unlike herself,  _could_  have. Jealousy was a crude way of phrasing it; it was more like envy – deep and seething. Oh how she desired it to be someone else cursed the way she was. And then guilt would take envy's place for she could never wish this feeling of loneliness and utter uselessness on anyone else and thought herself horrific for ever having had such a thought. A vicious cycle that had continued over the years.

But now, nearing her twenty third birthday – past the years where one would expect any such experience – she had to accept the fact that such a day would never come and she would never have children of her own. Elsa blamed the ice for making her body inhospitable; surely no babe could survive the chill of her barren womb. Did she even  _have_  a womb? Regardless, she had come to rely on Anna being her heir.

Every marriage proposal she had ever received was burned to a crisp. Kai would deliver them to her out of courtesy despite the fact that she had so often told him to destroy them himself. She supposed he lived in some sort of flat hope that she might read one and feel a connection with one of the tedious two dimensional characters those pompous princes portrayed themselves to be. But she could never feel anything for them; it wasn't in her nature.

And she couldn't give him anything. So, even if she did force herself to lay with a man she could never love, her womb would remain as barren and fruitless as it always had been. So, what was the point in trying? She could never have what she wanted. So, what was the point in trying? She could never be happy like that. So, what was the point trying?

"Your point being, Eriksson?" She asked, brow raised. He pursed his lips and adjusted his spectacles before continuing.

"Princess Anna realises the responsibility of becoming queen?" He asked, twitching his nose to raise his glasses. "A  _Master Kristoff Bjorgman_ has recently proposed to the princess, am I correct?" Eriksson continued.

How had he even discovered that? It had been discussed between Anna and herself only a week ago. Elsa had hoped that Kristoff would propose sooner rather than later so that she could give them her blessing and there could be no argument. But now that the councillors had discovered his intentions, it would be almost impossible for them to ever be together – even despite the fact that Elsa had already given her blessing and Anna had joyously accepted.

The reason for her haste was that any children Anna and Kristoff had would not be eligible heirs of the Arendellian throne. Unless they were the only children and there was no opportunity to birth more suitable heirs.

They may hold the title of Prince or Princess of Arendelle, but they may never ascend to the position of King or Queen of Arendelle. Such was the unfortunate and rather inconvenient restriction of morganatic marriage – the cruel reality of marrying for love rather than political benefit.

"The Árnadalr bloodline will end with Princess Anna unless she marries royalty," Eriksson added, his expression anything but cruel. Elsa met his large eyes, his words smashing a hole in her chest and turning her stomach.

"I can't take that away from her. Not after everything she's been through." Elsa felt moisture gather in her eyes, throat constricting. "She deserves love."

"Ma'am, I am afraid there is no other way," Eriksson replied, his expression pained. "She must."

He felt truly empathetic toward the blonde haired woman before him. It brought him no pleasure to ask such questions or insist such things but the future of Arendelle and its royal family was in question and, as an esteemed member of the Monarch's Council, it was his responsibility to ensure that future was hopeful.

Eriksson pushed the glasses further up the bridge of his nose once more. She wanted to rip them off his face. Maybe smash them. Maybe freeze them, chill them till they shatter. She wanted to cry. She felt compelled to apologise.

"I... I will speak with Princess Anna. Thank you, Master Eriksson. Is that all?"

There were shared glances to confirm that there was indeed nothing more to be said before she dismissed them and they stood to leave.

She glared. Not at anything in particular. Her face just hardened into a bitter grimace. She was shivering. It was cold – she couldn't feel the cold. That was part of the problem – this infernal ice that seemed insistent on ruining the lives of those she loved. So, maybe she wasn't shivering from the chill that emanated from her body but perhaps the rage wracking her lithe form. Or maybe it was the execrable ice within shaking with cruel laughter at her despair.

* * *

Elsa raised her hand, brushing the pads of her fingers over the smooth wood of the door. Taking a calming breath, she gently rapped the oak with pale knuckles.

Better to do this sooner rather than later.

"Hello – who is it?" Came a quick, almost anxious, voice on the other side.

"It's Elsa. May I come in?"

"Um..." She heard a crash and a groan followed by harsh whispers. She frowned, wondering what on earth Anna might be doing.

Hearing an exclamation of pain, Elsa entered concerned as to whether Anna was all right. She raised a brow at the sight before her. Under any other circumstances, it may have been comical. If she weren't about to destroy her happiness she might have even reminded her of the consequences of being caught in such a situation.

"Kristoff?" The queen's brow hiked up at the sight of the large man fumbling to stand, his face that of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

He looked up at her from the floor with worried eyes, cradling the back of his head with his hand, flushing pink.

"Your Majesty... I-I, hello," he said, silently cursing himself for being caught in such a situation that looked far worse than it actually was – and for blushing.

"Elsa, I can explain -" Anna began, concerned that her conservative sister might think the worst of Kristoff being in her bedroom and, considering their awkwardness, she was sure Elsa knew exactly what they were doing.

"- Anna, may I speak with you." Anna frowned. Elsa glanced back to Kristoff, now standing, his cheeks still flushed pink. "Alone."

Anna felt her chest tighten. The last time Elsa had asked to speak with her 'Alone' she had refused, and things didn't go so well.

"I'll, um, I'll just be going then." Kristoff stood and made his way towards the door, slipping past Elsa silently before then shutting it behind him. He could have sworn he felt Anna glaring daggers into the back of his head as he scampered away, leaving her to face her sister's questions alone.

Once outside he breathed a sigh of relief, hopeful that Elsa wasn't too upset about finding him in the princess' bedchambers; it looked a lot worse than it actually was.

Blue eyes met teal and suddenly a torrent of words spilled from the princess' mouth.

"Elsa, nothing happened – I promise. I wouldn't – Kristoff's not – I mean we're not – we haven't done anything like that, yet." Her eyes went wide at how one might interpret that. "Not- Not that we actually plan on doing that. That's – no that's not – Kristoff's a gentleman. And I'm a lady. I wouldn't do those things."

"Anna... I – I just need to talk to you about something," Elsa began slowly, taking a nervous seat beside her sister on the edge of the bed.

She ran her palm over the sheets. Contemplating how exactly one told Anna with her gorgeous, hopeful little soul that she absolutely could not, under any circumstances marry the love of her life because she, the barren Ice Witch of Arendelle, could bear no children of her own. It seemed too harsh a truth to tell. Certainly, too cruel a fate for the girl who never gave up hope.

How was it possible that words had the potential to shatter someone like that? How was it fair?

"I need to... There's something I haven't told you. You know, as queen, I should produce an heir?" Anna nodded. Elsa took this as her cue to continue.

"Any child of mine would likely carry this burden-" She began, trying to ease into the more difficult part of the conversation.

"- Your magic?" Anna interrupted. "It's not a burden; it's beautiful."

"You know how to control it now, so what's to say they couldn't learn too? You'd be a wonderful mother, Elsa; you're loving and kind. I'm sure you would be great-"

"- I can't." She pursed her lips, fearing how Anna might react. Elsa suddenly decided she needn't drag this out longer than needs be; she should just tell Anna the truth. "That's what I'm trying to tell you..." She added, a lump growing in her throat.

Anna's brows drew together once more, utterly bemused by the sadness in her sister's voice.

"Wait... what? Can't? Can't control your magic? Of course you can; we worked it all out. Love is the answer." Anna didn't know if it were possible to get any more confused. "Kids are amazing... sure they're a little messy, clumsy, loud, energetic... But I don't – I'm... Why wouldn't you want that? You could teach them to control it. It'll be fine. Besides, kids are the best love you can get."

Elsa felt her stomach twisting, an amalgam of utterly unpleasant emotions curdling within. Guilt. Sadness. Despair. She felt sick actually. Her hands were trembling in her lap. She tried to rein in her emotions, only barely aware of the growing chill emanating from her body, rime spreading from her palm on the bed. She didn't know what was worse, Anna insisting that she have children or the dreadful news she had yet to deliver.

"I can control it – it's been getting better... And it – it isn't that I don't want children." She started, glancing back to the kind face before her. Anna was waiting, patiently. Patiently, as she always was. "I can't."

"Can't?" She noticed her eyes flicker to her stomach then back to her face. "You can't?"

"No."

"Can't..."

Anna's eyes were on her abdomen once more; she shifted slightly under the scrutiny.

"Oh..." Anna breathed, suddenly scared of saying the wrong thing. "I'm sorry." Elsa, puzzled by the sympathy, broke the eye contact. Anna lay a palm on her hand and squeezed to remind her she could talk to her. They had become quite good at that in the weeks after the Thaw. Talking.

"I'm fine." Wringing her hands, she looked back to her sister. "I actually wanted to talk about what that would mean for you."

"I'll be the queen one day?" Anna asked, replacing her palm on Elsa's fidgeting hands. Elsa nodded. "That's cool - it's fine. I can't guarantee I'll be as good as you are but I-"

"- You can't marry Kristoff." There it was. She said it. No point in delaying it any longer. If she was going to break her precious little heart better to do it sooner rather than later, right?

Anna's mouth hung open. Elsa couldn't look her in the eye. It was Anna's turn to feel sick. She hadn't considered that. It was like a punch to the stomach.

But Kristoff had just proposed last week. She was supposed to be marrying him in a few months time. How could this happen?

Kristoff was supposed to be her true love. How could she marry anyone else?

"I..." Anna began, throat constricting as unshed tears pooled in teal orbs.

"I'm so sorry. If – if there were any other way..." Anna could hear the desperation with which Elsa desired 'any other way' in the way her voice cracked.

Elsa was almost brought to tears by the younger girl's expression. Sadness. Shock. Disappointment.

Anna didn't know how to feel. She was, for once in her life, utterly speechless. Elsa reached for her hand; if Anna cared she didn't show any sign.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Elsa whispered, caressing Anna's hand with her thumb. "I'm so sorry." It seemed she really couldn't do anything right when it came to being a big sister. She really was useless.

Suddenly, she was pulled into her arms, and a gasp escaped her. Elsa frowned, carefully yet affectionately returning the gesture as she was unsure whether Anna was just too upset to be angry or if she really wanted her comfort.

Anna rested her chin silently on her sister's shoulder for what seemed like hours but was likely just a few minutes, tears trailing down her freckled face – drowning teal eyes in sadness.

Her thoughts wandered. Who might she have to marry? Some snotty prince? Older than her? Like... a lot older? A narcissist? A psycho like Hans? Whoever he was, he would surely be nothing like Kristoff; the smell of reindeer wouldn't linger on his clothes, he wouldn't pick his nose and pretend she couldn't see him, he wouldn't belch and blame it on Sven. He wouldn't make her happy like Kristoff did.

The idea of being with anyone else made her shiver, but such was her responsibility to her kingdom now.

Pulling back and meeting guilty blue eyes, she managed a twitch of her lips that looked somewhat like a smile. Their hands found each other once again, fingers entwined.

"Don't be sorry. It isn't your fault." Her eyes turned down, and she observed their hands before adding: "I suppose... I should be grateful. At least I can have children."

Elsa swallowed thickly and shook her head to deny the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"Oh, Anna... that isn't the thing that saddens me most, it's the responsibility that it forces upon you. It isn't fair." She reached forward and tucked a copper strand behind her ear. "For that, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She gave a small smile through the tears. "I'm not sure Kristoff really wanted to marry me anyway."

"You're wonderful Anna – please don't doubt that. I love you so much." A tear dribbled down her cheek; Anna reached to wipe it from her fair skin. "I'm sorry; I'm not the one that should be getting upset."

"I love you too," Anna replied, pulling her into another hug.

* * *

After what seemed like hours, they were laying next to each other, just holding each other with equally gloomy expressions. They were both battling the pull of sleep for a few more moments of the other's silent company.

Her sister, now beside her – after all their years apart – and she felt Elsa still kept too much to herself.

_I mean, most people would know if their sister was infertile._  She thought, brows furrowing at her own ignorance.  _That was something normal sisters talked about, right? Woman stuff and men and stuff, right? Right?_

It wasn't the first time Anna had to remind herself that she and Elsa were not exactly a prime example of  _normal_ sisters. Their relationship was odd, much like that of long lost strangers, best acquaintances or foreign familiars.

They were sisters; they weren't friends; they loved each other; they didn't know each other and they cared for each other, though neither understood the other's strife. And it was with that realisation, that Anna vowed to erase the gap that had formed between them over the years. The gap that she had worked so hard to chip away at over the time following the Great Thaw.

Fair skin, barely-there freckles dusted across otherwise unblemished ivory cheeks and slightly down-turned lips. A few rogue strands of hair had come loose of her braid, framing her sharp face with white-blonde tresses.

Anna tried to remember a younger Elsa. She recalled a rounder face with fuller cheeks, a higher voice, someone of shorter stature. Despite her efforts, she could not recall a young Elsa that seemed genuinely happy. She was too young to remember much before the accident and any memory she did have of joyous times didn't quite seem to capture the essence of happiness. They carried an air of falseness – void of true emotion.

She supposed counterfeit, magic-induced, troll memories couldn't compare to the real thing. She would have to make her own happy memories with Elsa, and with Kristoff while she still had the chance – even if she could never marry him.

Her last conscious thought before she succumbed to the blissful haze of sleep was how she would manage to talk to Kristoff the next time she saw him. How would she make memories with him if she broke his heart? She would have to tell him. Gently. And try not to cry.

And her thoughts ended there as sleep claimed her and heavy lids fell over tired teal orbs. **  
**

* * *

**A/N: All thoughts and feelings are welcome, guys.**

**A lot of my chapter titles will be named after song titles or lyrics (not all of them though) - cookies to anyone who guesses them!**

**\- Fly :3**


	2. He Goes Left and You Stay Right Between the Lines of Fear and Blame

*{--} **He Goes Left and You Stay Right Between the Lines of Fear and Blame** {--}*

 

The warmth of the early morning sun was no comfort. In fact, she found it quite the opposite; it meant she had to face another day in which she was responsible for making Anna miserable. One more day to add to the many; the list grew longer.  
  
  
Elsa sat at her desk, eyes skimming documents with no real desire to retain any of their information whatsoever.  
  
  
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as her hands came to cradle her skull, already throbbing with the stress. She had left Anna's room when dawn's light had rudely reminded her that she had duties to attend to as queen.  
  
  
How she had wished she could stay with Anna and be there to comfort her when she awoke. Last night she may have put on a brave face but Elsa dreaded that Anna, in the clear mind of the early morning (more like mid-afternoon), might decide that she did blame Elsa and would suddenly feel the enormous and undesirable weight of the responsibility she had been saddled with the evening prior.  
  
  
Elsa worried that, if Anna decided she did blame her and would go so far as to deny marriage proposals all together, she would be forced to order her own sister –  by the power of her crown – to marry a man. She sincerely wished it wouldn't come to that because, if it did, she was certainly unsure of whether she could order the sweet princess to either give up her freedom or stand accused of treason.

 

Oh, how she wished she could have just been blessed with a fruitful womb so that she might save herself and her sister all this anguish. She would have forced herself to do it – had she only been able.  
  
  
If there was no heir then their family would be dead upon their passing – the Árnadalr bloodline lost to the ages – becoming a mere memory of the many Arendellian monarchs that had come before her. Including her father.

 

And then Arendelle would be in chaos; a war would ensue as nobles bellowed and brawled for their claim to the throne.  
  
  
Vultures –  animals freed from their cages, climbing and clambering over one another in their pathetic ploy for power.  
  
  
Elsa had always assumed that, as soon as she was able, Anna would marry a fair and handsome prince and live her happily ever after - without Elsa. She would have children, many beautiful fair-haired and fun-loving children. Anna would be her successor as Elsa would obviously have never wed nor have had any children of her own, and then Anna’s child would follow.

 

Elsa had been so sure that this was Anna's happy ending but then... _somehow_ it all went a bit pear-shaped, and they were back together again, and they were happy, and Anna was courting a man with shaggy blond hair who smelt vaguely of reindeer manure and carrots.  
  
  
But that could not be Anna's happy ending. Unfortunately, the rest of the princess' life would be as full of dream and longing as her childhood as her 'prince' was not a prince but a common ice harvester and her kingdom and sister relied far too much on a child of hers – pure of blood.  
  
  
Elsa hung her head as the throbbing in her skull persisted. She knew that Anna was not doing this willingly at all. Anna had no choice and she knew it. She knew she would be condemned to a loveless marriage despite her desire for True Love. And Elsa hated that she was – once again – the cause of her sisters' misery.  
  
  
There was a knock at her door, short and polite, ripping her from her depressing thoughts. She called for them to come in. She wasn’t expecting anyone and, given the hour, it wasn’t likely to be anything majorly important or requiring her immediate attention.  
  
  
“Good morning, your Majesty.” Came Gerda’s cheery voice, Elsa could practically hear the smile on her face.  
  
  
“To you too, Gerda.” She replied, focusing her gaze on the papers before her.  
  
  
“How are you this fine morning, ma'am?” the elder lady asked, hands clasped at her front. Elsa offered a brief glance up at the handmaid.  
  
  
“Fine, thank you.” She looked back down at the document before her, a trade embargo of some sort, though she found it almost impossible to concentrate on the words scrawled across the page.  
  
  
She looked back up once more, catching the handmaiden's concerned eye.  
  
  
“Was there something you needed, Gerda, it’s just I’m rather busy at the moment...” Elsa gestured to the documents on her desk – evidence of her ‘busy’ morning. They _could_ be addressed later but she felt the need to bury herself in her work.  
  
  
Gerda's brows furrowed, sensing hostility in her queen's words.  
  
  
“I came to ask if would like me to bring you breakfast, ma'am, seeing as you are so busy this morning,” the handmaid replied.  
  
  
“Thank you, Gerda, but I'll wait for Anna,” Elsa said in vain hope that the elder woman would leave her to brood. Gerda's brow twitched. “I have a lot of work to do, anyhow,” she added, hopeful that the handmaid might sense her desire to be alone.  
  
  
“Ma'am, you know the princess will not rise for another hour or so.”  
  
  
“The more time I have to read through these,” Elsa replied stubbornly, gesturing to the papers once more.  
  
  
A soft sigh escaped the elder woman. As obvious as it was something was bothering her,  Gerda knew Elsa was not quick to share her struggles with others.  
  
  
But Gerda had convinced the young blonde to talk many a time. It just took a little persistence.  
  
  
“Is there something wrong, ma'am?”  
  
  
“Gerda...” Came a slightly harsher voice. A little persistence, and a bit of patience.  
  
  
“Ma'am, I may not be of much use when it comes to affairs of the crown-”  
  
  
“- So why pry, Gerda?” A _lot_ of patience.  
  
  
“You know I only mean to hel-”  
  
  
“- You can't help -”  
  
  
“- not if you keep interrupting me, I can't.”  
  
  
The queen's head snapped to the side so quickly it was a miracle she didn't snap her own neck. Her braid whipped over her shoulder, and blue eyes bore into Gerda's, quirked brow evidence of her annoyance.  
  
  
Gerda held her gaze, ignoring the dip in temperature that came with Her Majesty's spike in temper.  
  
  
“You know, if you were anyone else, you would be out of a job,” Elsa mumbled, holding her eyes a little longer before turning back to the papers with a sour face. The room, though still cooler than it had been, began to warm once more.  
  
  
Gerda took that as permission to continue.  
  
  
“If I were anyone else, I wouldn't know you well enough to be able to take the risk,” She said, reminding Elsa that Gerda probably knew her better than she did herself.

 

In the years she had spent in isolation, both Kai and Gerda had tried to talk to the princess. The briefest of conversations sparked from polite greetings, though they rarely consisted of more than simple pleasantries and perhaps a few details about their day. After that Elsa would always insist they leave, claiming that they shouldn’t feel obliged to talk to her as it meant putting their lives at risk.

 

Elsa would claim it had been a bad day, and that her control was unsteady at best. But Gerda knew that with persistence and patience, Elsa would eventually begin to trust herself, and maintain longer conversations with the handmaid. And she had been right, resulting in Gerda becoming something of a confidant to the growing young woman.

 

After a moment of silence, Elsa relented. She turned back to Gerda with a sigh, and met her eyes once more.

 

“You know that I can’t have – I can't produce an heir...” She took Gerda's silence as prompt to continue.  
  
  
“I was always so sure that Anna would marry a prince. Mother and Father never made any arrangements for her betrothal. I wanted her to be free to marry whichever prince she wished, so I made none either.”  
  
  
Gerda listened like a mother concerned for her child. She made no attempt to comment or interrupt.  
  
  
“Anna must marry a prince,” Elsa said, the words forced from her mouth as though they were a death sentence rather than a mere statement.

 

Gerda had been in service to the crown long enough to understand the general rules and whatnot when it came to marriage. Particularly in Arendelle, offspring had to be of pure blood in order to be eligible to inherit the throne.  
  
  
The handmaid’s face fell. She had not, like Elsa, ever considered that Anna would fall in love with a working man rather than a royal; it was the girl’s childhood fantasy, after all, to be swept off her feet by a handsome prince.  
  
  
“What of Master Kristoff, ma'am?” Gerda asked, certain she already knew her answer. Elsa glanced away, guilt rising in her throat.  
  
  
“It cannot be. It simply wouldn’t be allowed; law would prevent any of their children taking the crown.” Elsa answered sadly. “I had tried to encourage them to be engaged before the council could raise the issue but, even with my blessing and Anna's acceptance, they have refused.” The elder woman could tell those words hurt to say and she wanted nothing more than to pull Elsa into her arms –  but that would be improper.  
  
  
“I see.” Gerda stepped closer to the queen, resting a hand next to hers on the oak desk. “It isn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.”  
  
  
“I spoke to her, and she didn’t seem... she wasn’t even angry.” Elsa lifted her head, meeting the handmaid's warm grey eyes. “She doesn’t blame me.”  
  
  
“Do you think she should?” Gerda asked, curious as to why Anna's acceptance bothered Elsa so.  
  
  
“I feel I’ve already taken so much from her, Gerda – it isn’t fair.”  
  
  
“Perhaps not.” She took a breath, searching for the appropriate words, not wanting to encourage the girl's guilt. “This world has taken so much from you both. At least this time you can be there for one another.”  
  
  
Raising a hand to her temple, Elsa broke Gerda’s gaze as she felt the tell-tale pinprick of tears beginning to form.  
  
  
“What if she hates me?” Elsa said, throat constricting around the words, as though she wished to strangle them and squash them, forcing them to be untrue.  
  
  
“She could never; she adores you.” The handmaid replied, wanting to pull the younger woman into her arms more than anything at that moment.  
  
  
There was another knock at her door. This one was more distinctive; the rhythm in the rapping revealed the identity of her latest unexpected visitor.  
  
  
“Come in, Anna,” Elsa called, a frown forming as she struggled to comprehend how she and Gerda had been talking for so long. It could have been a considerable amount of time or Anna could just have woken uncharacteristically early.  
  
  
The princess bounded into the room, study door slamming shut behind her. Elsa cringed, and Anna's shoulders raised to her ears as she muttered out an apology.  
  
  
“Hi, Elsa,” She chirped, a smile swelling her freckled cheeks. “Good morning, Gerda.”  
  
  
“Good morning, your Highness,” Gerda gave a curtsy, pleasantly surprised to see the princess up before noon.  
  
  
“I need to talk to you...” Anna took her lip between her teeth and brushed a hair behind her ear, daring an awkward glance into her sisters ice blue eyes. “Last night, I didn’t really get to ask you anything... I just –  I need to talk to you.” The queen’s eyes widened, the worries in the back of her mind worming their way forwards.  
  
  
“Ma’am, forgive my interruption, but wouldn’t you rather eat first,” Gerda asked. “Surely, whatever it is will seem less daunting after breakfast.”  
  
  
“Actually, it’s real-“  
  
  
“- You should eat. If you want, we can talk later.”  
  
  
“But I need to talk to you now,” Anna protested, eager to speak with Elsa about their conversation from the night before. “It’s really important.”  
  
  
“And I’m not going anywhere; I will still be here when you get back.” Anna frowned, sure that Elsa was just avoiding her questions.  
  
  
“Why don’t I bring something to you?” Gerda suggested, sensing the princess’ apprehension. She cast the queen a smile.  
  
  
“Yes please, Gerda,” Anna said with a small smile. “Thank you.”  
  
  
“Yes. Thank you, Gerda,” Elsa echoed, catching the way the handmaid’s mouth turned up slightly.  


* * *

Anna had been fidgeting with the teacup for about five minutes, but Elsa didn't want to rush her.  
  
  
“So I-I was thinking about what we talked about last night...” Anna began, cradling the cup in her palms. Elsa nodded, waiting. “How do I... What about Kristoff? How do I talk to him, Elsa?”  
  
  
Elsa hesitated, eyes wide. How on Earth was she supposed to know? She had never been in a relationship. She didn’t know how these things _worked_! Not relationships. Not romance. Not break-ups. She didn't understand _any_ of it. In truth, she didn’t understand men. Not at all.  
  
  
 She opened her mouth to speak, closing it again, trying to decide how she was going to do this.  
  
  
How did you break bad news to anyone?  
  
  
“Be honest with him,” She replied, fighting the urge to wring her hands and twist her fingers like a guilty child. “From what I've observed, he's a good man. Surely he'll understand.” She gulped anxiously, aware that a younger sister asking her older sister for break-up advice was probably normal. One more thing she was no use for.  
  
  
“But what if he doesn’t? What do I do if he-“ The princess began frantically, tapping her nails at the cup in her palm.  
  
  
“- I won’t pretend to know what I’m talking about; I don’t know Kristoff like you do. I don’t know that kind of love. I won’t lie to you... Kristoff probably won’t be too pleased but he’ll be even more upset to hear it from anyone but yourself.”  
  
  
“Is that just the nice way of saying ‘Just man up and tell him for God sakes.’?”  
  
  
“I could come with you if you think it’ll help but I... I don’t think he’d take too well to me telling him myself.”  
  
  
“Can I tell him about your... you know...” The princess asked, gesturing vaguely at her own abdomen.  
  
  
“That would probably help him make sense of things; if he knows, he’ll see how important it is, but it’s up to you. Tell him whatever you think is best as I’ve clearly no such experience with men.”  
  
  
Anna stood abruptly, placing the teacup not-so-delicately on the desk.  
  
  
“No, you’re right. I should just... tell him. Kristoff's –  he’ll get it. I need to –  I just need to tell him,” she declared.  
  
  
Elsa stood too as Anna stepped closer and pulled the taller woman into her arms.  
  
  
“I’m sorry, Anna.” Was all she could say, a guilty whisper, uttered into strawberry-blonde braids.  
  
  
Anna just held her tighter.  


* * *

Kristoff was in the stables, preparing Sven for their next trip into the mountains tomorrow; he had kept pushing it back in favour of staying at the castle with Anna a little longer. He absolutely adored her and, though they had not been together long, he felt they both knew each other well enough to move forward with their relationship. So last week – with the queen's blessing – he had proposed.

 

Elsa had been so supportive – encouraging him even. She had asked him if he was sure that he and Anna were ready to take such a decisive step in their relationship. Sure that they were, he had assured her that he would take care of Anna and had no ill intentions.

 

He had gotten to know Elsa over the months following the Great Thaw, and he thought their relationship was one of mutual respect - if a little awkward at first. But their mutual concern for Anna’s well-being had brought them closer than even their shared affinity for ice ever could.  
  
  
A smile twitched at his lips at the thought of the bouncy redhead that had literally barged into his life. But he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. She wasn’t perfect; she was loud and clumsy but Kristoff couldn’t help but find her verbal and physical blunders absolutely adorable.  
  
  
And speak of the devil – here she came – walking toward him with a somewhat neutral expression on her face.  
  
  
That was odd. Anna was never neutral. She didn’t do ‘normal’; she was supposed to be bouncing and bounding toward him with a mischievous little grin on her face.  
  
  
Sven huffed beside him at the sight and he lay a hand on the reindeer’s snout.  
  
  
Stood before him, he grinned at the princess.  
  
  
“Hey, Kris...” She greeted him, her tone implying there was more to say.  
  
  
“Hey, I was just getting Sven ready. We’re gonna have to get back to the mountains for a little while.”  
  
  
“That’s nice...” Came a distant reply. The mountain man had been adjusting Sven's reins but whipped around, a frown marring his usually handsome features; Anna often complained that he spent too much time in the mountains. She said he probably spent more time looking at his reflection in the ice than she did in her vanity mirror.  
  
  
“Nice? No comments? No ice jokes?” He pulled the strap securing the harness to Sven’s body and the reindeer nickered in response. “Is something wrong?” He added, seeing the disappointment in her eyes.  
  
  
“Everything’s wrong...” The princess grumbled and Kristoff was tempted to pinch her cheeks at the sight of the adorable pout that settled on her lips but decided against it as she seemed genuinely troubled.  
  
  
“Come on, it’s not that bad; I’ll be back in a couple weeks – two maybe three –  and then I’m all yours again.”  
  
  
Suddenly, small yet surprisingly strong arms surrounded him and Anna's cheek was laid across his torso. He wrapped his arms around her slight form and gave a cautious frown. He was about to speak before a stifled sob caught his ear.  
  
  
“Kristoff... I’m sorry – sorry... I’m sorry.” Anna cried, trails of sorrow dribbled down her face and had anyone else been around she might have cared but Kristoff accepted every part of her, even the messy crier part.  
  
  
“Hey – hey calm down. What’s the matter? What’s got you so upset?” He asked, concern filling his chocolate eyes. Anna looked up, hers the colour of a troubled sea.  
  
  
“I-I can’t see you anymore, Kristoff.” She managed, before another sniffle cut her off. “We can't get married.”  
  
  
The young man paused his actions, his mouth hung open slightly, and his thick brows twitched together.  
  
  
“Wait, what? What – what d'you mean?” He asked, his expression that of a lost puppy; he had been absolutely ecstatic when Anna had accepted his proposal. Why was it all going wrong now?  
  
  
Anna pulled out of his embrace abruptly and held her hands behind her back –  the image of a guilty child.  
  
  
“Why, Anna? Who said so?” The scorned boy demanded, taking a step closer to the princess.  
  
  
Anna shook her head, a tear dripping onto the barn floor –  Sven promptly licked it.  
  
  
“It's nobody's fault, Kris. It’s just-“  
  
  
“- Just who? Obviously, it’s not your decision.” He said, folding large arms over his chest. “Anna, I just wanna know why... please...”  
  
  
“Elsa-“  
  
  
“-Elsa?!” His face contorted into one of anger, and suddenly he wasn’t feeling so gentle and comforting. “She doesn’t want us together? But Elsa was the one that – am I suddenly not good enough for her or something?!”  
  
  
“Kristoff, you don’t understand-“  
  
  
“- No, I don't. Tell me why Elsa gets to make these decisions for you. She doesn’t get to _choose_ for you.” Annoyance grew on the princess' face.  
  
  
“First of all, stop interrupting me; I’m trying to tell you why, and second – don’t talk about Elsa that way because this isn’t her fault. She doesn’t want this any more than you or I do.”  
  
  
“So, what’s her problem!?” He asked, his deep tenor carrying across the courtyard.  
  
  
The guards by the gate noticed the way he approached the princess, and readied themselves to take action; judging by his volume and threatening posture they believed they might have reason to fear for her safety. Their distance from them prevented them from being privy to the subject of their conversation, but they could surely tell it was a heated one.  
  
  
Anna glared up at the blond towering over her with a frown on his face. Sure, she was upset but to hear Kristoff claim Elsa was trying to control her life, and to not even let her explain, aroused her ire.  
  
  
“Why do you assume it’s Elsa that has the problem?” She growled back.  
  
  
“Because you said she –  that she doesn’t want us to be together-“  
  
  
“- I said no such thing! Elsa wants that more than anything but she has no choice.”  
  
  
“She's the queen! Of course she has a choice!” The mountain man bellowed, his cheeks stained red, angry tears welling in his eyes.  
  
  
“You assume that because she’s the queen that the rules don’t apply to her,” Anna said, narrowing her eyes.  
  
  
“Don't they – can’t she _change_ the rules?! Isn’t that the whole _point_ of being queen?” He rebuffed, brow cocked questioningly. Anna sighed and raised a hand to the bridge of her nose.  
  
  
“It doesn’t work like that; she needs the approval of the council and – and it’s just not that simple.”  
  
  
“But what rules? Where does it actually say that you and I can’t be together? I know royalty can marry commoners –  it’s happened _so_ many times, so don’t tell me that's why!”  
  
  
The guards were anxious to assist the princess. One of them made to confront the mountain man, but the other, taller and his elder by a few years, held a hand to his chest and whispered something about waiting, and how the princess had once punched a grown man off the side of a boat. The young guard's eyes widened in surprise.  
  
  
“Well, since you seem to know so much about royalty, why don’t you tell me what happens to the children of those marriages? Do you know, Kristoff?” Anna asked, wishing the mountain man would see the fault in his logic.  
  
  
Kristoff paused for a moment, thinking. He didn’t know. What horrid fate awaited the children of such marriages that he was unaware of? When he made no attempt to answer, Anna continued.  
   
  
“They can’t ascend to the throne.” She stated as if that one sentence solved all their problems. It didn’t. Another frown grew on his face. What did that have to do with anything?  
  
  
“So! They don’t need to – why is that even important, Anna?!” He growled, his patience on the brink of breaking.  
  
  
“They need to be eligible for the throne in order to become king or queen one day,” Anna replied angrily, fists balled at her sides, nails leaving crescents in her palms.  
  
  
Kristoff's face screwed up into perhaps one of the most unattractive expressions she had ever seen upon his face.  
  
  
“What’s wrong with Elsa’s kids being king or queen?!” Kristoff yelled, finally at the end of his tether.  
  
  
“Elsa can’t have kids!” Anna shouted in reply. Kristoff’s face immediately dropped, and he felt a weight thud in his stomach.  
  
  
The guards saw Kristoff had given up his threatening stance, and was now standing rather awkwardly before the princess, mouth hung open.  
  
  
Kristoff felt Sven nudge at his elbow as if to say: Well say something, you idiot.  
  
  
“So, that’s it?” He asked, rather more pathetically than he had hoped to sound. Anna glanced away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.  
  
  
“Yes, Kristoff. I’m sorry.” Anna said, her voice almost monotone in order to keep herself from crying again.  
  
  
“But-“  
  
  
“- I have a duty to my people, Kristoff. I can’t let my family name die. It would cause chaos – war.”  
  
  
“So, we can’t-” He began softly.  Anna swallowed the hard lump in her throat and shook her head, no longer trusting the words in her mouth to come out as she wished.  
  
  
Kristoff sighed, deflated like all the air had just been punched out of him. He sniffed and wiped his eye with his fist.  
  
  
“Then I... I-I’ll see you when I get back.” He said, taking hold of Sven’s reins. He tugged and the reindeer frowned, resisting he tug of his harness. “Come on, Sven,” Kristoff growled. Sven gave a submissive grunt and followed, casting the princess what could only be described as a sad look as he passed.  
  
  
Anna watched as Kristoff led Sven toward the gate, the reindeer glancing back forlornly. She couldn’t see the tears that had gathered in the mountain man’s eyes, and he couldn’t see the way her lip quivered as he stalked further and further away.  


* * *

“ _Where are we going?_ ”  
  
  
“I don't know, Sven.” He kicked a twig, and watched it sail about ten feet in front of him.  
  
  
“ _I don't like it when you and Anna fight._ ”  
  
  
“Well, cheer up 'cause it looks like that'll be the last of ‘em.” He replied bitterly, the princess' words still thundering through his mind. He never did believe in True Love and all those soft, mushy feelings. The idea that there was 'someone for everyone' just didn't seem true; how could _everyone_ be happy? In an ideal world, yes, but certainly not in the world he lived in –  the real world.  
  
  
He had started to believe it though; he had thought Anna was his 'someone'. But clearly not if there was nothing he could do to keep them together. He stamped on the twig he had kicked – angrily snapping it beneath his tough boot.  
  
  
  
He wasn't noble. That's all it came down to. If he were some fancy-pants, know-it-all prick with lots of money then it would all be fine. But he wasn't. He was Kristoff: a mountain man with a reindeer and the clothes on his back – maybe a couple of copper pieces in his pocket. But that was it.  
  
  
Sven nickered at his side, and Kristoff reached to scratch between his antlers. Sven would never leave him. And, despite his admiration for the princess, he had always told himself –  had always known deep inside –  that she would leave him; he simply wasn't good enough for royalty. And there was nothing he could do about it.  
  
  
“Well, maybe _you_ can't do anything...”  
  
  
Kristoff glanced questioningly at Sven. The reindeer seemed to be mocking him for having not thought of them sooner.  
  
  
“Don't look so smug.”  


* * *

Wrapped up in Elsa’s arms, Anna continued to sob.

 

One arm around her body and the other stroking the copper head that cried onto her torso.  
  
  
They didn’t talk. Anna just let herself be held, listening to the soothing beat of her sister's heart.  
  
  
It was late. Anna had been in the library for the past three hours, crying. A fire had been made up about two hours ago, but had long since burnt out. Anna didn’t care; Elsa’s warmth was enough.  
  
  
At least, that’s what she told herself. This muted heat that radiated from her sister's body would be enough – enough to pull her through the sadness. It wouldn’t be, and she knew it. That’s what made it so awful.  
  
  
She glanced up at Elsa who reached to wipe the tears from her freckle-dusted cheeks.  
  
  
“He's gone.” Anna managed. “Really gone...” Elsa pulled her closer, burying her nose in strawberry-blonde locks in order to stop herself from spewing a thousand more apologies that meant nothing; she could change nothing. “He took Sven, and he said he’d see me later. But – but I don’t think he’s coming back.” The princess added, through her tears, pulling Elsa's hand to her chest. Elsa pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, and ran her thumb over the back of her hand.

 

The sad snowflakes that fluttered pitifully around them only served to show the queen's guilt.  
  
  
Elsa was quite sure that’s where silence was re-established, and Anna drifted into sleep on her tear-stained chest, and how she ended up an hour later with a crick in her neck and a dead leg, slowly drifting in and out of sleep herself.  
  
  
Kristoff raced on Sven’s back. They would know what to do. Surely, there was some magical cure for infertility... He knew if only he could find something to help Elsa then he and Anna could be together and they wouldn’t have to worry about Anna having ‘royal children' that were eligible for the throne. And, if there were anywhere to find such a thing, it would be here.  
  
  
He was going to be the one to fix things. It would all be fine, and they could all live their happy lives if he found some way to fix Elsa’s problem. He let a smile form on his lips as hope blossomed in his chest at the idea of being able to be with Anna again.  
  
  
What Kristoff didn’t know was that, through his ‘noble’ quest to cure the queen's infertility, he was opening them all up to entirely different challenges, not just for them but for many others as well. These challenges would prove to be... well... challenging. They would cause them to question themselves and others, bringing uncertainty, lies and truth, love and loss and a little bit of chaos –  just for good measure.  
  
  
In his effort to retain his happiness, he would unwittingly cost others theirs'.  
  
  
He didn’t know why fate had chosen to put him in this position, but Kristoff knew he was going to try his damnest to change it.

 

The thing is... sometimes fate doesn’t like to be changed, and it may have been better to leave well enough alone...

* * *

**A/N: Oh no, Kristoff! What are you doing? Can anyone guess where he's heading? Who could fix a problem like this – any ideas? The end of this chapter sounds quite foreboding – any ideas what might result of curing Elsa's infertility? Or, if it can even be done? I can assure you, you wont be expecting it. Let me know what you think, fave, follow, review.**

**Many thanks to my betas Scorpiofreak and JustNeedToReview.**

**\- Fly :P**

 

 

 

 

 


	3. You've Had Too Much to Think; Now You Need a Wife

*{---} **You've Had Too Much to Think; Now You Need a Wife** {---}*

 

 

Only two days later, Kristoff came racing back to Arendelle with a smile like a valley on his lips and the wind crashing through his shaggy hair.

 

He needed to talk to Anna – no Elsa. He needed to talk to Elsa – give her his great news. He had _great_ news.  


 

He shouted encouragement to Sven, hoping to make it back to the castle before the afternoon. Anna was going to be so pleased. He could barely keep himself from grinning. Euphoria danced in his heart and bubbles of excitement fizzed and popped in his stomach. This was going to fix everything.  


 

* * *

Anna wandered the gardens alone. She gave a sigh and crouched before the little ducklings at the pond's edge. She reached out and stroked a single finger down one's feathers, appreciating the way he nuzzled into her palm.  


 

She was so bored. So absolutely and inconceivably _bored_. She had tried so many things to distract herself from the large Kristoff shaped hole in her life these past two days. She was failing spectacularly.

 

 

She was so bored...  
  
  
She had tried sitting in Elsa’s study with her, but she found herself just as bored watching Elsa sign papers as she would be watching paint dry. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy spending time with her sister. It was more that, when she was working, she didn’t have much of a chance to talk or do anything other than reading the hundreds of letters and trade embargoes and proposals and – oh goodness, being queen even _looked_ exhausting!

 

 

It was so boring.

 

 

She had tried hanging out with Olaf but, good god, he was annoying, especially when all Anna wanted to do was someone to moan to about how tragic her life was, and how Kristoff was a jerk for running off and how she really wished she had known about Elsa before she went and fell in love with him.

 

 

But Olaf was... well, he was just too goddamn optimistic. He was sure that everything would work out and Kristoff would come back and that both she and Elsa would live their happily-ever-after – oh dear, he was _too much_ for her depressed brain and she could not cope with his toothy grin or his impulsive need to sing a song about everything they passed-by in the hallways.

 

 

Soooooo bored...  


 

She had tried reading in the library, despite having already ready pretty much every single book in the castle over the years. The books just upset her; she wanted to read stories with happy endings to make her feel happy, but they all ended with princes and princesses riding off into the sunset or getting married and leading amazing, fantastically fulfilled lives together – it was ever so depressing.

 

She was still bored.  


 

So, on the brink of either tears or snowman murder, Anna had decided she had best get outside and breathe some fresh air to calm her.  
  
  
That brought her to the ducklings in the pond in her favourite of the castle gardens. She sighed and stood from her position beside the pond; the ducklings were nowhere to be seen and it seemed today was just meant to be a boring day – and every single day from today.  


 

Anna liked to consider herself a strong, independent woman – that's right – woman; she was nineteen years of age now. She was an adult, capable of looking out for herself and entertaining herself. She didn't need anyone else. She didn't need Kristoff who – despite being her elder by three years – had been the one of them to go off and sulk about all this drama like a child.  
  
  
And, though she wanted to be angry with him, she couldn't; she was angry with herself. Anna didn't want to pine after him like some pathetic adolescent damsel in distress, but she did. And it hurt. She was angry with herself for becoming reliant on him because his absence made her hurt like she was right now, and she was frustrated for having become so dependent on the presence of another person. She had managed thirteen years pretty much on her own so why did she feel the need to become so attached to a smelly ice harvester that picked his nose and ate carrots and spoke to and for reindeer?  
  
  
She loved him so much. So much that she swore she could hear him calling her name right now. Anna! Anna! Anna, where are you?! Wait- _what_? That was real – it was _really_ Kristoff and he was looking for her!  
  
  
Immediately, she took off in the direction of his voice. She ran with wide eyes and a spark of hope igniting in her chest even though she knew they were over and there was no going back.  
  
  
Anna ran, his voice grew closer. There! Running across the courtyard, she saw him racing toward her with a grin splitting his face.  
  
  
Suddenly, he scooped her up in his arms and spun her around, taking her completely by surprise. As he lowered her back to the ground she stared up at him with a slightly sceptical expression, wondering what had caused this sudden change in demeanour.  
  
  
“Kristoff what's-”  
  
  
“-Anna, I have _amazing_ news!” He said excitedly, taking her hands in his.  
  
  
Anna frowned and removed her hands from his grip. For some reason, he was acting as though she hadn't just broken his heart two days ago. What on Earth was going on?  
  
  
“What do you mean?” She asked, confusion evident on her face. Kristoff continued to grin, his eyes blazing with euphoria.  
  
  
“I can fix it!” He replied. Anna's frown deepened, shaking her head.  
  
  
“Fix... fix what – What can you fix?”  
  
  
“This – us – Elsa – all of it! It's all gonna be okay; the trolls can fix it!” He rejoiced as though he had solved the world's problems. The princess was still confused, quirked brow evidence of her puzzlement. He grabbed her hand once more, tugging her in the direction of the castle entrance. “Where's Elsa?” He asked.  
  
  
“In her study but how-” Anna began to protest; she was just dragged closer to the castle, confusion still tainting her expression.  
  
  
“- I'll explain when we get there,” Kristoff called over his shoulder.  
  


* * *

She had been lumbered with a rather large pile of papers just after noon and, having briefly glanced at them, she saw they were all marriage proposals. Only this time, it wasn't hordes of princes and kings requesting her or Anna's hand in marriage, they had been written up on Anna's behalf and awaited her signature before they would be sent to the many eligible men of the world in hopes that they may be able to strike a profitable deal with Arendelle. Elsa cringed at the idea of sending them; it was like she was advertising her little sister like meat at a market or some prize to be won by the highest bidder.  
  
  
Suddenly, Elsa heard footsteps thundering down the hall outside her door and, as she stood to investigate, the door of her study flung open and Anna and Kristoff breathlessly tumbled through. Elsa's eyes widened at the sight before her – both lay in a tangled mess of limbs on the floor. Papers flew off her desk at the sudden draft, a slight annoyance evident on her face.  
  
  
“What on earth are you two doing?” She asked as they lifted themselves up, pain forgotten and excitement and confusion returning to Kristoff and Anna's eyes respectively.  
  
  
“Your Majesty... I have- I have great... news.” Kristoff managed, dipping into an awkward bow, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.  
  
  
She raised a brow expectantly, looking between the two of them.  
  
  
Kristoff straightened up before her,  unable to suppress the smile on his lips.  
  
  
“I think I may have found a way to fix our problem.” He announced, his joyous smile growing.  
  
  
“Our problem?” She questioned. Kristoff cleared his throat and broke her gaze. He gestured awkwardly toward the queen.  
  
  
“Well, Anna – Anna told me that you... you know, that you couldn't-”  
  
  
“Master Bjorgman, are you implying you've found a way in which I might bear a child?” She interrupted him, a sudden excitement in her voice. Anna's eyes lit up behind him and a smile grew on her lips as she reached to join their hands. Kristoff smiled a toothy grin and nodded.  
  
  
“Yes! Yes, the trolls – my family – they said they have something that may work. I came back as fast as I could.” He explained, a sense of accomplishment filling his chest – pride in the fact that he had been the one to find this solution (technically, it was the trolls but they were his family so he had found it by association).  
  
  
Elsa's mouth hung open and her eyes went wide and for a moment she didn't care; being the perfect picture of a stoic queen didn't matter at this moment because Kristoff's news meant she didn't have to send off all those horrid marriage proposals and Anna could be happy with Kristoff and right now she couldn't find it in herself to care about anything else!  
  
  
“Wow, Kris, that's amazing! That means I don't have to marry a prince, right – Kristoff and I can still be together?” Anna asked, half directed at Kristoff and half at Elsa, eyes flickering excitedly between the two with a smile growing on her face.  
  
  
“Yes. If – if this works then everything can go back to the way it was.” Elsa said, relieved that Anna could live her happily-ever-after.  
  
  
Elsa noted the way they had already intertwined their hands, holding one another tight with hopeful smiles on their faces.  
  
  
“How soon could we visit your family, Kristoff?” Elsa asked. Kristoff grinned at her and she felt guilty for this whole situation despite her innocence.  
  
  
“We can go now; I can hook Sven up to the sled and we could be there in an hour or so.” He replied eagerly.  
  
  
“Good; I would like to speak with them as soon as possible.”  
  
  
“Come on,” Anna encouraged him, tugging him toward the door. He gave another bow, just as awkward as the first, to Elsa and a friendly smile.  
  
  
“Actually, might I speak with you for a moment, Kristoff?” Kristoff's raised brow was quickly hidden as he nodded, letting go of Anna's hand.  
  
  
Anna gave them both a smile before stepping out and pulling the door shut behind her.  
  
  
Kristoff felt nauseous; a million thoughts ran through his head – all reasons why he might have landed himself in trouble. He looked intently at the queen as she seemed to be trying to perfect what she was going to say in her head.  
  
  
“Have I done something wrong – have I overstepped?” He asked, suddenly aware that perhaps she didn't realise he knew of her situation. Elsa's eyes snapped to his and, in those eyes, he saw thanks and concern.  
  
  
“No, you were perfectly within your rights. I don't condemn your actions,” she replied, concerned that Kristoff might see her as ungrateful for his, possibly life-changing, discovery.  
  
  
“Oh, it's just – well, I thought you might be angry...” The mountain man replied, seeming so small in front of the queen, despite the fact he had at least five inches on her in height. Another frown formed on her face though this one seemed incredulous, comical even.  
  
  
“Angry? Why would I be angry?” She asked, confused. Kristoff opened his mouth to talk then closed it again – not exactly sure how to one spoke to the queen about her... well you know...  
  
  
“I – I um, because I know about your –” he gestured vaguely at his own abdomen. “ – and I didn't think you would appreciate me finding out; I –  I thought you might be mad.”  
  
  
“Kristoff, I stopped being mad about that a long time ago and people would have found out eventually when I could produce no heir,” Kristoff noted the way she folded her arms across herself – her body language telling him the opposite to her mouth. It was clear that – deep down – some part of Elsa was still rather upset about the whole thing. And he couldn't blame her really; it must have been quite difficult to deal with.  
  
  
“So, you aren't upset that Anna told me?” He asked, somewhat surprised by her composure despite her displeasure.  
  
  
“No. I am actually glad that she spoke about it with you. She requested my permission and I thought that if you knew why then things wouldn't... you might not have been too distressed with her.” Kristoff nodded his head silently.  
  
  
“Was there something else you wanted to talk about then?”  
  
  
He noted the way she took a breath and straightened her posture – shoulders back and chin raised, seeming somewhat nervous even in her façade of confidence. He twitched a brow. Why would she be nervous addressing him? She had more power in her little finger than he had in his entire body; if anyone should be nervous it should be him.  
  
  
“Thank you. I know that what you did was not for my benefit at all, but I would like to thank you, all the same.” His tense shoulders relaxed hearing the sadness with which she spoke those words. He gave another friendly smile.

 

 

At this point, he saw how happy she really was at this potentially life-changing discovery.  


 

“Of course, Elsa.”

 

 

“And I know that I'm not the only one that your discovery brings joy to,” Elsa began, glancing at the door. “You and Anna will be extremely pleased, I should assume?”  


 

“I am.” He bowed his head respectfully. “Thank you.”  


 

She offered her hand to him and almost laughed again when he seemed perplexed, as though was wondering what he was supposed to do with it.

 

 

_Does she want to shake my hand? No, you dolt! You don't shake the queen's hand!_

Was he supposed to kiss it? He knew that happened a lot in royal courts. After a moment Elsa reached forward a shook his hand gently. He blushed pink at his own hesitation, eyes apologetic. A look of mutual appreciation was shared. Perhaps a friendship had begun to blossom between himself and Elsa; their shared desire to give Anna the world and affinity with ice had certainly proved to form a lasting bond. They had already grown quite close and he truly believed they could be invaluable allies to one another.

 

 

Despite the arduous first weeks after The Thaw, Kristoff and Elsa eventually grew on each other – their friendship blooming once each had realised that the other was not a threat to their shared favourite person in the world.  


 

* * *

Anna noticed Elsa had been practically silent the entire journey there and she took her hand in her own, pulling her sister aside as Kristoff attempted to wake the rocks laying on the ground.  
  
  
“Are you alright?” Anna asked, brows furrowed in concern. Elsa nodded, though the worry in her eyes betrayed her. “Tell me...”  
  
  
“We – I mean I – haven't been here for so long. It just isn't one of the places I had ever hoped to visit again.” Elsa replied glancing around at the many boulders that littered the ground, knowing they were the creatures they sought after. She felt Anna's fingers intertwine with her own and met her sister's eyes with a careful smile.  
  
  
“It's okay; I'm right here for you,” Anna said, smiling cheerfully.  
  
  
There was a sudden rumbling as the rocks began to shake and come to life. Anna watched her sister's eyes widen and grip on her hand tighten as they tumbled forwards, friendly faces greeting them.  
  
  
Elsa didn't recognise any of them; she had been so young the last time she was here and in such a state of panic that wasn't even sure she would have known where they were if not for the fact Anna kept reminding her that the “trolls” were “really friendly”.  
  
  
There was one she did recognise though, an older one, seemingly the wisest and most respected of them all. She remembered him; he had spoken to her that night. Her brows twitched as he rolled closer to them. It hadn't even crossed her mind that she might encounter the same one a before and, despite her desire to fix all of this, anger sparked in her chest.  
  
  
“Your Majesty, such a pleasure to see you again,” The elder troll said, looking up at her with a welcoming smile. “It has been a while, hasn't it?” Her frown only deepened.  
  
  
“Grand Pabbie doesn't bite,” Anna chuckled, urging her sister to reply to the old troll. She only shook her head.  
  
  
“You were the one that spoke to my father,” She said, tone accusatory. Then it was Anna's turn to frown.  
  
  
“Your Majesty, I apologise that our last meeting was less than pleasant, but I must argue that I had no ill intentions that night; I merely wished to offer your father advice. It was never suggested that you be isolated,” Grand Pabbie replied, his expression turned regretful.  
  
  
“And yet I was. And everything that has happened since could have been avoided if you had spoken plainly that night,” Elsa growled. Anna felt Elsa's hand growing cold in hers and she placed a hand on her arm, hoping to calm her.  
  
  
“I gave advice, your Majesty. I could not predict your future, and how your father chose to act upon my words were, unfortunately, out of my control,” Grand Pabbie explained, sympathy in his words.  
  
  
“Elsa, please... They just want to help. We can't change the past so, please just... Let's see what they say. Maybe, we can change the future for the better,” Anna pleaded, grip tightening on Elsa's arm, wide eyes imploring. By now, she knew the story of what happened that night and she and Elsa had spoken about how the trolls had saved her and then revealed the dangers of Elsa's power.  


 

Kristoff had come to stand beside the elder troll and was glancing nervously between it and Elsa, seeming ready to defend the troll should he need to. She met Kristoff's eyes then Anna's before turning her gaze back to Grand Pabbie. She struggled for a moment between anger and desperation. Knowing she needed the troll's help and knowing that she would find no such aid anywhere else in the world, she knew she need to accept their aid. She knew Anna needed her to do this. But at the same time, she felt anger bubbling in her stomach at how his help had hurt them before.

 

 

Trust was something the young queen did not give freely. After years of having to rely on her own ability to control herself she had learnt not to even trust herself when it came to certain things. And if one could not trust themselves then how hard it must be for them to be able to trust others  


 

“I understand your frustrations, your Majesty, and I am sorry that I couldn't have done more to help you and your family. But Kristoff tells me that we might be of assistance to you now and I will offer everything I can, if it means aiding you,” Grand Pabbie said, voice interrupting her train of thought. She reluctantly met the troll's eyes.  
  
  
“I assume you already know why we are here then?” Elsa asked.  
  
  
“Indeed, I do,” Grand Pabbie began, inching closer to the queen who had crouched to meet his eye. “Though I am afraid the help we can offer might not be exactly what you were expecting,” He added.  
  
  
“If it means that Arendelle will have an heir and that Anna and Kristoff may still be together then it doesn't mat-” Elsa began, eyes determined.  
  
  
“- Is it dangerous?” Anna interrupted, sensing the troll's apprehension and feeling suddenly rather concerned for her sister's safety. The troll shook his head gravely. “Because if Elsa's in any danger then I just – Kristoff and I will just...” She met Kristoff's eyes sadly. “... I won't put Elsa in danger.”  
  
  
“That isn't your decision to make,” Elsa re-joined, adamant that Anna's happiness would come before anything else. Even if it meant risking her life.  
  
  
“Pabbie wouldn't suggest anything dangerous,” Kristoff defended, glancing down at the troll with trust in his gaze. The troll looked up to the mountain man, gave a smile and then looked back to the queen and princess.  
  
  
“There is no danger, your Majesty. My only concern is that it might quite _different_ from anything that you may have been expecting.” He reached out to take Elsa's hand and look forlornly into her blue eyes. “You see, as one that wields ice, your body is too cold to harbour life.”  
  
  
Elsa pursed her lips; she had always thought it was the ice. She could never be certain but now, hearing it aloud, made it all too real; this ice, as wonderful as it may sometimes be, was the reason she was almost forced to condemn her sister to a loveless marriage.  
  
  
“I had always suspected that the ice was to blame. But why? May I not even bear a child like me; surely they could withstand the cold?” Elsa asked. Grand Pabbie shook his head, the other trolls gathering closer with sadness in their rocky features and the knowledge of Pabbie's impending words in their eyes.  
  
  
“All life is born of warmth – of love; it is essential for growth. Even a child born of ice, such as yourself, cannot be born by the chill of your womb,” he explained. “It is this way so that those that bear the gift of winter cannot conceive. And so that their gift remains with them until the time comes for them to depart this world. Upon which it will be passed on to another; an abundance of magic-wielders would cause imbalance in the world.”  
  
  
“So, how is it that you intend to help; from what you say –  even if I were with child by magical means – they surely would not survive?”  
  
  
“It is possible for a child to born of your blood, therefore making them eligible for your throne, but not from _your_ womb.” He began, lifting a hand as Elsa began to question his meaning. “Another woman might bear your child if a potion of your blood is used to co-create another life within them.”  
  
  
Elsa and Anna just stared at the elder troll, the weight of his words sinking in. Elsa rose to her feet and looked to Kristoff then back to the troll.  
  
  
_Oh dear._  
  
  
Elsa really wasn't expecting that. Her face paled as she realised what accepting help from the trolls would entail.  
  
  
In order for the child to be legitimate – as it was already going to be hard enough to convince people that the child was indeed hers considering another woman would be birthing it –  Elsa realised that a marriage would have to take place between herself and this other woman so that the child could indeed be considered theirs. And then the infant could be recognised as a product of them both – joined in every way as they were.  
  
  
The implications of that situation churned Elsa's stomach, her cheeks turning pink, and she felt a sudden anxiety consume her – like a black smoke filling her lungs, squeezing her stomach and strangling her brain. The air around her grew frigid and she noticed Anna in her peripheral vision take a step back, breath fogging before her lips.

 

 

It seemed both Anna and Kristoff were just as speechless as she was.

 

 

Be careful what you wish for, lest it come true.  


_Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear._ Those words wouldn't stop repeating themselves in her mind as she tried to rein in the chill that was emanating from her body. This whole idea was mad – the craziest thing she had ever heard. And, if she was being honest, it scared her half to death. She never thought that she could… _oh dear…_  
  
  
But if this were the only way she could produce an heir and ensure Anna's happily-ever-after then so be it.  
  
  
“So, how would this all work?” Elsa asked, trying to seem unfazed by this shocking news.  
  
  
“Well, first you’ll need to find yourself a wife.”  
  


* * *

Elsewhere in the world, revenge was on the tongues of tyrants; plots and plans laid carefully out on the table as war was plotted; passion and power at its heart.  
  
  
A smirk grew on pretty red lips as the poison dripped into the glass, swirling into the red of the wine – disguising itself amongst the layers of sweet and tart flavours. Drop by drop by drop... Death was on the cards and war soon to come. Then power and love would soon follow suit, allowing her everything she had ever desired. She would take it all back – every last debt she was owed, every last debtor would get their comeuppance. Drop by drop by drop...


End file.
